


Anchor

by aislingyngaio



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingyngaio/pseuds/aislingyngaio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico is stumped at Percy and Annabeth's normalcy post-Tartarus, and speaks to Percy about why their experience differs from his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be read as the epilogue to my story [Binding Ties](http://archiveofourown.org/works/935485).

He couldn't sleep. He knew he needed the rest, but he hadn't been able to sleep. Not since... not since _they_ came back. Maybe not precisely hale and whole, but they had managed to come back, all on their own, and except for the fact that they hadn't yet gone without each other's company for more than a few minutes, they were - he had to admit a little jealously - doing much better than he did when he escaped... that place.

He tossed and turned a few more times on Percy's - now his - bed, then gave up the lost cause, and started to dress. It wasn't his turn to take over the watch yet, but _they_ were on watch, and he couldn't stand not knowing any longer.

Up on deck, he could see them in the moonlight, one at each side of the ship’s bow, with Leo at the helm. The son of Hephaestus smiled slightly in recognition as he emerged from the stairwell, then went back to his steering. His heart clenched painfully; when he'd met Leo at Camp Half-Blood’s campfires all those months ago, his grin had been cheekier and accompanied by his trademark salute.

He'd changed. They all had, in one form or another. _A hero’s life is never anything but tragic._

Approaching the ship's bow, he took great care to greet Percy at least five steps away before approaching his quarry. Tired but frighteningly alert sea green eyes scanned him before smilingly beckoning him over.

"Hey Nico. Shouldn't you be in bed?" Hearing his cousin speak just as he would've spoken to him before everything happened was alternately frightening him and making him jealous. _Why_ was he so normal? Granted, his and Annabeth's skin blisters had yet to fully heal (Jason had theorised that the nectar they were fed must be working on internal injuries first), and Nico could still hear the ringing in his ears caused when they'd tried to insist that Percy and Annabeth have a decent rest in their separate rooms (it ended up only working for the first five minutes; even Coach Hedge was now forced to allow them to share Annabeth's cabin - moral outrage was no match against the threat of sleep deprivation), but other than sporadic panic episodes, they were acting perfectly fine.

Didn't they see the things he did? Weren't they down there for longer than he was?

"How do you do it?" he burst out asking. Percy's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Do...?"

"How are you and Annabeth still so… so..." Nico gestured at them both, as if Percy was being dense, when even he couldn't put into words adequate enough to explain the situation. "Your skin is burnt and you raise your sword at any small unidentified noise. You won't go anywhere unless Annabeth is at least in your peripheral vision. You both must have seen more horrors in there than I did. Yet how are you still..." he struggled to find the right word.

"Sane?" Percy supplied, frowning at himself, as if wondering whether that word even applied to him any more. He glanced surreptitiously at Annabeth, so quickly that Nico nearly missed the instinctive move, then whispered, "I don't think any of us will ever be normal again, Nico."

Against his will, Nico shuddered at the painful memories he tried hard to suppress. The feeling of utter helplessness. The fear of suddenly facing a sea of Tartarus' worst, all looking at him like he was lunch, then converging onto him and...

_Poisonous air…_

_Walls closing in…_

_No more seeds left..._

Percy's arms supporting him was the only reason Nico was able to avoid a PTSD relapse right there in the middle of the conversation. As it was, he had to take a few deep breaths and tamp down his volatile feelings before looking up at Percy and asking, "Why are you doing so much better than I? Seriously, Percy, I was there for like five minutes before getting kidnapped. But you two..."

He faltered as Percy turned to stare out across the expanse of the North Atlantic Ocean. For a long moment, he thought Percy had spaced out or forgotten about him, and was just about tempted to try waving his hands in front of Percy’s face (and hoping he won’t get skewered in the process), Percy unexpectedly said one incomprehensible word: “Styx”.

“The River Styx saved your sanity? How---” Percy’s shaking head stopped Nico’s incredulous rejoinder. He had never actually followed the Styx to see where it flowed; indeed, his interest in the River Styx - the physical river - began and ended with Kronos and the Battle of Manhattan. He wouldn’t be surprised that the Styx flowed through Tartarus, but didn’t bathing in the Styx give physical invulnerability?

Percy chose his words slowly, as if testing the concept in his brain before sharing it. “I bathed in the Styx almost a year ago, in your presence. Remember what Achilles told us? I had to leave one spot where my soul would anchor my body to this world.” He paused, then continued as if speaking of an intimate secret. “It was Annabeth. She was my anchor. It was her face, her voice, the memory of her that solidified my connection to the world.”

Nico was flabbergasted. He had no idea. The way he heard Achilles say it, he had merely envisioned Percy focusing on the one spot of his body to be left vulnerable. “I didn’t know. I thought…”

His cousin smiled, “So did I, foolishly enough, and when I stepped into the river…" Percy paused, swallowed, then continued, "It felt like I was being eaten by acid inside out. I saw other faces… flashing by… but until she appeared, I couldn’t feel… I thought I would really die there, in the river.”

The silence between them grew as Percy resumed his faraway look, only this time in Annabeth’s direction, while Nico absorbed this fact slowly, marvelling at the strength of the bond between his friends for Percy to survive the Styx because of Annabeth, even when she wasn’t even physically there. “And what about… that… place?” he finally asked tentatively, still unwilling to name the place of torment. Never in all his remembered years had he been so frightened of saying one name, but…

Percy refocused his glance at him, then gave a half-smile. “It feels the same in there.” Nico stared uncomprehendingly with confused brown eyes, prompting Percy to elaborate, “No matter how weird things got, no matter how hungry we were, no matter that we thought we just might die, especially the closer we got to the Doors…” - he cast another surreptitious glance at the other side of the bow - “...I knew Annabeth was right beside me. She was the only real thing I had to hold onto while in there, but it was enough.” He nodded absently to himself, and repeated, “She was enough.”

“So… it was the connection.” he finally understood slightly. “It was the anchor. The reason to live.” Something he didn’t have, he reflected sadly, not him, a son of Hades. And not at the strength it would have required to survive and stay sane in the face of… of…

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his melancholy thoughts. “You’ll find it someday, Nico.” Percy said confidently, as if everything will be all right. Nico nearly snorted disbelievingly - Percy was ever the optimist - but all it got him was a stern reproachful look from the son of Poseidon. “But first, you _have_ to believe that there will be someone. You _have_ to want to belong, Nico.”

“My father…”

“...doesn’t have to dictate your future. If I had let my parentage influence me… well, you do remember who Annabeth’s mom is, don’t you?”

Nico smiled slightly at that pointed reminder, the first real smile since Cabin 13 was completed at Camp Half-Blood. “That’s true. Thanks, Percy.” His cousin only smiled and rubbed his shoulder soothingly.

Perhaps this time things _could_ be different. He was almost fifteen, but maybe he didn’t have to wander the Underworld anymore. There was a cabin now at Camp for him, and maybe - barring any major prophecies coming to pass in their lifetime - he could be… normal for a demigod for a change. Put down roots. Learn to play with others.

Find his connection to the world.

He finally bade goodnight after a companionable silence, since there was still two hours before his shift, and Percy waved him off. Walking slowly back to the stairs at the stern, he could feel hope, feel it pushing back the darkness, just… _feel_.

Right before he descended the stairs leading to the cabin quarters, he looked back, and smiled wistfully at the scene.

Two demigods had met halfway at the center of the bow. Wordlessly, they embraced, kissed, then looked out into the starry sky, still in each other’s arms, as the Argo II sailed towards their home.

_\- Finis -_


End file.
